There is the sort of pain
which makes everything sharper,
clearer,
more focused.
And then there is this:
blurred lines, dulled senses,
waiting for you to whisper when you never will again,
seeing a shadow and waiting for the toes on your feet to appear and announce your body,
waiting for you to come home when your side of the bed is empty,
to hold me in my sleep,
to tell me you love me in real time
and not in dreams or memories
which are all I have left now.
Friday, December 30, 2011
First...
First, the sleep goes. It abandons you to
heartsickness that has no stint.
And all becomes blurry and the days run
together and there are echoes of echoes of echoes
of the voice silenced, the footfalls never to be
heard again; the face already altered
by loss and memory and you wonder:
Is that how he really looked? Was that really his
voice? Was that really the sound of his step
in the hall? Did he really always laugh at that joke?
And then, your hair falls out in great clumps,
and you hardly miss it at all,
there is only shock of losing it. And you think:
Take it. There’s nothing left anyway, so I will not miss this.
And well-meaning friends who quote such cliches
as “Time heals all wounds” will reassure you that
it will grow back again.
heartsickness that has no stint.
And all becomes blurry and the days run
together and there are echoes of echoes of echoes
of the voice silenced, the footfalls never to be
heard again; the face already altered
by loss and memory and you wonder:
Is that how he really looked? Was that really his
voice? Was that really the sound of his step
in the hall? Did he really always laugh at that joke?
And then, your hair falls out in great clumps,
and you hardly miss it at all,
there is only shock of losing it. And you think:
Take it. There’s nothing left anyway, so I will not miss this.
And well-meaning friends who quote such cliches
as “Time heals all wounds” will reassure you that
it will grow back again.
Friday, December 2, 2011
A Reflection upon Visiting a Dear, Dear Friend
True friends share silence
and talk with equal pleasure.
That is what we have.
and talk with equal pleasure.
That is what we have.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
8/2/11
In the city,
only buildings are beautiful.
Anemic trees host squirrels
who seem more like rats than do
their bushy country cousins.
City sparrows look best bathing in a
man-made fountain, hopping
daintily from one concrete block
to another.
Maybe that's why I like the city at night:
dark obscures the trash of the streets;
white, golden domes of civic centers shine pure;
the squirrels have retired into the trees;
sparrows have hopped to shelters under eaves;
and only people, their lights, their batteries, their phones
show,
instead of natural reminders of destruction.
And in this dark, it's easy to look away from sights
that don't fit my versions of beauty.
only buildings are beautiful.
Anemic trees host squirrels
who seem more like rats than do
their bushy country cousins.
City sparrows look best bathing in a
man-made fountain, hopping
daintily from one concrete block
to another.
Maybe that's why I like the city at night:
dark obscures the trash of the streets;
white, golden domes of civic centers shine pure;
the squirrels have retired into the trees;
sparrows have hopped to shelters under eaves;
and only people, their lights, their batteries, their phones
show,
instead of natural reminders of destruction.
And in this dark, it's easy to look away from sights
that don't fit my versions of beauty.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
I can't remember whom I wrote this about...
When this song plays, I
always think of you. I like
the song anyway.
always think of you. I like
the song anyway.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
I Am WAY Too Happy about This
Trust me, years ago, these results would've been a lot more crazy. Believe it!
If you want to take the test, go to http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality_disorder_test.mv.
If you want to take the test, go to http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality_disorder_test.mv.
| Disorder | Rating |
| Paranoid: | Low |
| Schizoid: | Low |
| Schizotypal: | Moderate |
| Antisocial: | Low |
| Borderline: | Low |
| Histrionic: | High |
| Narcissistic: | Moderate |
| Avoidant: | High |
| Dependent: | Low |
| Obsessive-Compulsive: | High |
-- Personality Disorder Test -- -- Personality Disorder Information -- | |
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I call this "Oversimplification."
And it's not a haiku.
Age 13: I discover the kid who offers me prescription drugs saying, "You could really use some of these," is absolutely correct.
Age 14: I discover a reason to keep living: To get drunk as often as possible!
Age 15: I push anything awful down with Weed, Pills, and, of course, & Liquor.
Age 16: Why not add a little LSD to the mix? When Valium & Weed don't work and Booze gives one blackouts, LSD is a really, really attractive idea. Besides, it's so spiritual, if spirituality means driving down PCH quoting Foreigner's "Blue Monday" verbatim and wondering if the median has people in it.
Age 17 1/2: I quit drinking because I think I want to live and am afraid I won't die if I keep on.
Ages 17 1/2-30: Does that guy/girl/standoffish person of any gender like me? Does my professor hate me? How much do those shoes cost? I need them to go with my cape.
Ages 30-42: Real Contentment doesn't lie in Sex, Shopping, Candy, or Caffeine. But they don't hurt either. At least not most of the time.
Age 13: I discover the kid who offers me prescription drugs saying, "You could really use some of these," is absolutely correct.
Age 14: I discover a reason to keep living: To get drunk as often as possible!
Age 15: I push anything awful down with Weed, Pills, and, of course, & Liquor.
Age 16: Why not add a little LSD to the mix? When Valium & Weed don't work and Booze gives one blackouts, LSD is a really, really attractive idea. Besides, it's so spiritual, if spirituality means driving down PCH quoting Foreigner's "Blue Monday" verbatim and wondering if the median has people in it.
Age 17 1/2: I quit drinking because I think I want to live and am afraid I won't die if I keep on.
Ages 17 1/2-30: Does that guy/girl/standoffish person of any gender like me? Does my professor hate me? How much do those shoes cost? I need them to go with my cape.
Ages 30-42: Real Contentment doesn't lie in Sex, Shopping, Candy, or Caffeine. But they don't hurt either. At least not most of the time.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Other Day...
I was driving along Highway 4, and I saw a coyote. I've been thinking about it ever since--its long, clever face and its somewhat menacing gaze when our eyes met. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. I hope these haiku do it justice.
Coyote
Eyes meet—yours clever,
threatening; mine surprised by
your bushy tail.
-------------------------------------
You’re much browner than
I realized, Coyote.
In paintings, you’re grey.
-------------------------------------
Your gait quick, easy
through the tall grass. Brown
and grey, you blend in.
Coyote
Eyes meet—yours clever,
threatening; mine surprised by
your bushy tail.
-------------------------------------
You’re much browner than
I realized, Coyote.
In paintings, you’re grey.
-------------------------------------
Your gait quick, easy
through the tall grass. Brown
and grey, you blend in.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
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